The Chosen Ones
by MissMandS
Summary: Ryan is one of the chosen ones; cursed with an arm that has the ability to deconstruct, to kill anything she touches. She is bound to her cursed arm until she completes her task of killing the vampires and werewolves whose names she carries. Once her task is completed then her arm will return to normal and she will be free of her task, of being one of the chosen ones. AU.
1. Chapter 1

Ryan's final memories of her mother are associated with death as they walked through a forest together. Her mother held her wrist through her sleeve, her grip firm and her face stoic as they walked.

"This is not a punishment; I want you to know that." Her mother says through tightly pursed lips. Every bit of it feels like a punishment though; none of it has a feeling of comfort to it as she's lead towards a house. Sitting outside is a man, familiar to Ryan only in pictures.

"Keith, I ah…" Her mother begins only to stop and sigh.

"Hello Olivia. Am I to assume this is my niece?" He didn't look at her mother as he talked but at Ryan.

"Yes this is Ryan. Ryan this is. This is your uncle Keith." Her mother's voice wobbles as she lets go of her arm and gives her a small push forward.

"Go inside Ryan." He doesn't look at her as he directs her into the house, as he sits her down and turns on the TV on. Ryan sits there with her ankles crossed and listens to the voices of her mother and Keith bleed into the house.

"What happened Olivia?"

"Her arm is like yours you know; she carries the same markings." Her mother's voice wobbles; torn between fury and anxiety.

"You speak like you want to accuse me of something."

"I know what those markings mean for her Keith. I know what is going to happen. She is," Keith cut her off.

"Yes, Ryan is one of the chosen ones. Just like I am, just like the others staying here are." At the mention of others Ryan looked around and noticed that there were indeed others; lurking in doorways and behind furniture, all of their arms marked.

"Keith, I cannot even touch my daughter anymore for fear that I'll be killed. That I will die and all that will remain of me is a pool of blood and if I'm lucky my organs."

"Enough Olivia, do not speak about her that way. Or any of the chosen ones for that matter. We did not ask for these accursed arms, to carry these markings and be sentenced to a life of isolation." Keith's voice rises with each word until he's on the edge of shouting.

"What do I do?" Her mother's voice wobbles with tears now.

"Leave her with us. Leave her like our parents left me. Leave now Olivia."

"I want to see if she has the same curse as you. Or if it's all just a nightmare." And Keith comes back inside motioning for Ryan to follow him. Trailing her are the others from the house, all of them lingering on the porch and whispering as Keith guides her towards a tree. He leads her to a towering tree and with a glare silences the others on the porch.

"Ryan. I want you to touch this tree with your marked arm." Keith says and then steps away.

"And that's all?"

"That is all." Ryan looks at her arm and then puts it gently against the bark. The air is silent with baited breath as her arm glows a faint white. From the tree comes a loud creaking sound and then the trunk begins to fall apart, crumbling and groaning as it breaks. At last all that's left is a sprinkle of sawdust raining down around them. From the porch come applauses as the others all nod their heads. Her mother though looks at her with thinly pursed lips and narrowed eyes. She steps down with a nervous look in her eyes; freezing when Ryan turns towards her.

"I'll uh come by later to pick you up huh?" Her mother says weakly and then takes off down the path at a frantic sprint.

"She's not coming back is she?" Ryan asks as a block of ice settles in her stomach.

"No Ryan, she's not." Keith's voice is sympathetic as he lays a hand down on her shoulder. On the porch the others all gather around them, offering small words of praise or warmth.

"Keith you said something earlier about me being a chosen one. What did you mean?" Ryan's question silences everyone and they all look towards Keith.

"Your arm has the markings all of ours do." Everyone lifts their arms which are covered with a series of markings. Some of them were simple patterns, others twisted and intricate. Each one has names on them: some with multiple and others with only one or two.

"We are the chosen ones, given arms capable of deconstructing items or bodies. Dangerous things to have if given to the wrong person. The point is we carry these markings with these names because we are meant to set out and find the names on our arms. And when we do we destroy them."

"What happens after that? After all the names are gone what happens?"

"The markings will disappear and then we're free to live a normal life."

"And the names of the people who are they?"

"Monsters of the worst sort. Blood sucking vampires that prey on the helpless and werewolves who lose their control and will kill simply because the beast commands them to." Ryan suddenly feels sick as she looks around at the people surrounding her; at the house; at the path she and her mother had walked down only minutes before. She takes a shaky breath and then lets out a scream, rushing forward and smacking her and against a tree.

It follows the same fate as the first one, ending with a rain of sawdust. Tree after tree is destroyed until finally she collapses with a sob, staring up at the sky as sawdust falls around her. The others have all gone back inside except for Keith who watches from the porch. She's too tired to pick herself up, too tired to care that sawdust is sticking to her hair, her clothes. Too tired to care that she's destroyed half the surrounding trees with one touch. When Keith wanders down to pick her up she turns into his side with a sniffle and a sigh.

"You're all right now baby bird; you're all right." He promises as they reach the house. No, she's not all right. None of this is all right nor will it ever be. But she's too tired to tell him so and lets him promise her that everything truly is all right.

* * *

Hey, it's another Being Human fic. Just what I need.

This is what happens when I watch too much Fullmetal Alchemist and have a love/hate relationship with Scar. As far as how her arm markings look like I don't know yet.


	2. Chapter 2

**WARNING: Implied cannibalism and murder**

* * *

She rejects the idea at first. She does not go out with the others to search for the names marking their arms. She pretends not to hear the screams twisted with howls and groans that are the werewolves being killed. She pretends not to see the blood they left behind or how the others react around their bodies. It's an animalistic process in her opinion; viscous and cruel.

The werewolves are what she sees first. Her uncle drags one back, bloodied and bruised, dropping them in the middle of the floor. It's a man who looks around with a dazed look, blood dribbling down his chin and his wrist swollen. Her uncle looks thrilled about the whole process though as he lifts the man up by his shirt, holding him there and showing him off.

"Watch and learn baby bird how we take care of sins against nature." He lifts his arm and puts it against the man's face. The man lets out a strangled howl, his arms batting uselessly at the air as blood begins spilling from his ears, his eyes and down his face. There is a popping sound and then she watches as blood comes from the back of his head, coating the floor and wall. Her uncle drops him, kicking the body away.

"Uncle what do we do now?" Ryan asks and tries to swallow down the bile rising in her throat.

"Eat him, cut him into little pieces, bury him, and burn him. I don't frankly care what you do with the body just keep it the hell out of my sight and for the love of God let's clean up the blood this time." Ryan is pushed aside as some of the others rush forward; some to congratulate Keith and the others to fight over the bodies.

The vampires are harder to kill she learns. They're dragged in with force, their bodies not bloodied and beaten but conscious and fighting. Ryan stands back and watches another one of the chosen ones, a petite slip of a woman grabs hold of the vampire's neck, lifting them up. The vampire lets out a shout, their hands reaching for her throat.

"Do you think you can win blood sucker? You killed my husband. The difference between you and I is that you showed him mercy by making his death quick. A bite, a few drinks and limp his body went." She tightens her grip and Ryan watches as the vampire lets out a gag, their legs kicking weakly in the air. It's a slow process; one out of revenge rather than duty. There is no blood but endless screaming as they fight less and less until finally they fall apart in the woman's hand. All that remains on the floor is a pile of organs and bones. The woman doesn't seem bothered in the slightest; walking through them as she heads out of the room.

There are five others: her uncle Keith, three women Helen, Brenda and Lucy and one man, Jeremy. And just like the kills she tries to avoid them at first but finds it's impossible when she steps out of her room only to find one of them in the next. The women she finds are intimidating, looking at her with calculating gleams in their eyes. Jeremy is the quiet one, keeping silent even when he performs his kills. He's the first one she attempts to talk to.

"Why are you all doing this? What is the point?" Ryan whispers one night when it's only the two of them, scrubbing the floor for the last droplets of blood.

"Helen does this because a vampire killed her husband; Brenda because she wants to be normal again and go back to her family without the curse. Lucy out of anger that she lost her child to that cursed arm. She put her hand on him one day, and was forced to watch as he deconstructed right before her eyes. Had no idea at the time that she was one of the chosen ones."

"But why do_ you _do it?"

"I haven't seen my family in over ten years. They think I'm in the military, overseas. I cannot touch them; I cannot touch anyone who does not carry the same marks as us. If I'm to do that then they'll die. How am I to explain to my mother I can't hug her; my father why I can't shake his hand; my siblings why I have to avoid them?"

"So you'll kill vampires and werewolves and watch their names disappear off your arm so you can one day see them?"

"I've killed the wrong ones before you know. It's a sick feeling in your gut when you realize that you've placed your hand on the wrong one and names do not disappear. Before this Ryan I was learning to become a chef. And now I have to live in solitude."

"Why were we chosen?"

"We're all asking why but the problem is none of us can find out. All I know is that I miss my family; I want to be normal and I would give anything, anything in this world not to be one of the chosen ones." She thinks of his words long after their conversation is over. Ryan stares at her arm, thinking of her family, her friends. She could never see them again, never touch them again.

"Ryan we've found one of yours." Jeremy calls from the next room and he sounds disgusted about admitting it. She stares at her arm, at the bloody and beaten man lying on the floor. It's with a shaky breath and a whisper of 'I'm sorry' she watches as the blood splatters across the floor. Ryan backs away and covers her mouth only to scream when she realizes it's covered with blood. Jeremy wanders over and scoops her up bridal style, carrying her away from the mess now covering the floor and walls.

"It's over now Ryan, it's over." Jeremy whispers as he lies her down on the bathroom floor. She scrambles for the toilet and clutches it desperately, gasping and gagging as she retches.

"It…It doesn't get easier but there comes a point where you can kill them without a second thought." Jeremy says quietly between retches.

"That's what I'm afraid of."

And Ryan finds that his words are true. With each new name she acquires on her arm, each new mark it becomes a little easier. It becomes easier to step over or through the organs and bones left behind by the vampires; to scrub the blood left behind by werewolves. It becomes easier to go out and search for the names on her arm, to charm them into believing she is their friend only to end their lives. And the whole thing while no longer disgusting is downright terrifying as she steps over the pile of intestines in a pool of blood and doesn't feel the slightest bit of guilt.

* * *

So this idea has very quickly become a sick, twisted, dark and rather messed up piece of work. This story will be extremely dark and takes place before the first season of Being Human. I will put warnings up at the beginnings of each chapter as some will be extremely graphic. I own nothing but my OC's.


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